


Together

by Darazelly



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5496056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darazelly/pseuds/Darazelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Surana's first night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Well it's wordy, as usual.

”Alright, I guess I don’t know how to ask you this.”

The words just tumbled out of his mouth and he instantly felt like the back of his neck was burning. Maker’s breath, he could’ve chosen a more appropriate time than now. Nervously, he watched Ilvy glance up from where she was trimming the herbs they had gathered during the day. “Ask me what?”

Alistair swallowed around the lump in his throat and cast a glance towards the campfire where Zevran, Leliana, Oghren, Wynne and Sten were still gathered. Thankfully, Zevran and Oghren were, by the sound of it, busy with a game of dice and both had their backs turned to where he and Ilvy were sitting by her tent. Determined, Alistair turned back to her, his mind suddenly going blank as he tried to gather his words. “Oh how do I say this? You’d think it would be easier.” He took a deep breath and met her curious look, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she regarded him. “Every time I’m around you, I feel like my head is about to explode.”

An amused smile tugged at the corner of her lip, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss the little dimples in her cheeks. “Oh? Don’t think I’ve cast any spells that would cause that.” Next to her, Garmr, the large mabari she’d helped at Ostagar, huffed out a breath that Alistair swore sounded like an amused snort. Great, even the dog was mocking him.

He groaned and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-I didn’t mean it like that! Maker’s breath, I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

Even in the low light of the magelight she kept in a bottle next to her, he could see her cheeks darken as she shyly ducked her head.

Alistair’s fingers twitched and he wanted to reach out and sweep back a few of her blonde curls from her face. Instead, he hesitated for a moment before he reached out for her hand. She let the knife fall to the cloth as she accepted the invitation, raising her head to look at him once more when they wove their fingers together. Absently, he wished she wasn’t wearing leather gloves. He did so love the feeling of her slender fingers on his skin whenever she healed him.

The smile she gave him emboldened him as he pressed on. “Here’s the thing,” he continued, “being near you makes me crazy, but I can’t imagine being without you. Not ever.”

Her fingers squeezed his and it felt like his heart was about to burst out of his ribcage. “I don’t know how to say this in another way; I want to spend the night with you. Here, in the camp.” He saw her blue eyes go wide, but hurried on. “Maybe this is too fast, I don’t know, but… I know what I feel.”

“Alistair…”

He bowed his head and stared down at the pile of elfroot in front of him. “I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place… but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn’t even have met.” Maker, why was he sweating so hard. He wet his lips. “Look, it’s no pressure, I’ve never done this and I know you haven’t… you know, either… I just wanted to…” He groaned and hid his face in his hand. “This went better in my head.”

The sound of Ilvy’s soft laughter, followed by her hand caressing his cheek, prompted him to look back up at her. A smile spread on his own lips at the sight of her gentle expression. “I want it to be with you… while we have the chance.”

Ilvy nodded. “I… feel the same way.”

“So…?”

“Maker, yes,” she sighed and smiled at him.

He laughed softly and leaned forward to press a light kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, her eyes were alight with joy and they shared a quiet, nervous laughter. A jittery anticipation spread in his body as they busied themselves with sorting the rest of the fresh herbs, bundling them up and making note of which ones they would need to gather more of later. One by one, their companions turned in for sleep, until just Zevran, Oghren and Sten were seated by the campfire, the latter busy with cleaning his gear and keeping watch.

Alistair may or may not have planned on it, hoping to not have to deal with Zevran or Morrigan overhearing anything they weren’t meant to. They fumbled as they gathered up the herbs, nervously glancing at each other every time their hands brushed.

“So…” She quietly began while tying the cloth back up. “Where… Should we…?”

“Oh uhm…” He glanced towards her tent.

“We’re here already,” she whispered and lifted up the tent flap to put the cloth bundle inside. Alistair instantly nodded and she turned to scratch Garmr behind the ear. “Hey boy,” she whispered when the big dog raised his head to look up at her. “Think you can stay with Sten for a while?” Garmr looked between them and gave a quiet huffing woof before standing up and bumping his nose against Ilvy’s cheek. She giggled and waved him off as he trotted off towards where Sten was seated. 

“Well then,” she mumbled and gave him a smile before she shuffled inside, taking the jar of magelight with her. Alistair took a deep calming breath before crawling in after her. 

It smelled of herbs inside of her tent, as well as something vaguely like lyrium and the sounds from their companions at campfire was instantly muffled. Her staff lay next to her bedroll, the crystal at the top glinting in the magelight. Ilvy crawled all the way in, quickly putting away a few books in a corner to clear her bedroll, the cloth with the herbs being discarded on top of her bag along with her gloves. “Could you close the flap?”

“Huh? Oh!” Alistair quickly turned to tie the strings down to keep the chilly fereldan winds out. His hands were shaking so much that it took longer than it should have, and by the time he turned back to her she had started to tug off her boots. He quickly followed suit, stuffing down his socks into the shaft of one of them while he was at it.

“So…” Ilvy began and smiled when he turned to look at her.

Alistair moved further in, his smile growing into a grin when she met him halfway and they could wrap their arms around each other. “So,” he echoed her as he rubbed his thumbs against her waist.

Ilvy bit her lip, shyly glancing up at him before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Alistair hummed his approval and hugged her closer as he raised a hand to tangle it in her hair.

She melted into his embrace, sighing softly between their kisses. This wasn’t unfamiliar, the heated kisses, her body pressed against his, the little sounds he could coax from her with a brush of his tongue or nip of his teeth. He liked this; kissing her, holding her, tasting and smelling her.

Except this time, he wouldn’t have to pull back with burning cheeks and shuffle back to his tent to take care of himself.

Maker, he felt light-headed, like he’d had one too many drinks. “Ilvy,” he groaned, sitting back on his haunches to pull her into his lap. His other hand remained on her waist, itching to touch and explore but unsure whether it was alright or not.

“Alistair,” she sighed and he tilted his head to kiss her neck, his hand sliding down her back to squeeze her hip. It was exhilarating how she responded to his touches. Her nails scratched against his scalp when she buried her fingers in his hair, the pleasant sensation making him shiver with need.

Hesitantly, he snuck his fingers just under the hem of her shirt, the cotton of her breeches still between his fingers and her bare skin.

“Go on,” she whispered. Alistair kept kissing her neck as he slid his hands up under her shirt, groaning at the feeling of her warm skin. Still kneeling, they helped each other tug off their grey standard issue Warden shirts, eyes sweeping over each other bodies.

“Maker’s breath, you are beautiful,” he sighed as he reached out and caressed her cheek.

Ilvy smiled shyly and leaned forward to kiss him softly. “You’re quite handsome yourself.”

He flushed red when she leaned down to press a kiss to his collarbone while her hands slid down his stomach. Sure, he knew he was in a somewhat good physical shape, and he’d been told by others that he was good-looking, but her appreciative look still warmed his insides and brought a blush to his cheeks. Of course she’d seen him shirtless before, but that was always when she patched him up after a battle. It was technical, tinted with pain and worry as she healed him and the others to the best of her abilities.

No, this was different. No fatigue or worry clouded her expression when she looked up at him. Her hands didn’t tremble due to her diminishing mana as she slid them over his skin. Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her, hands eagerly mapping out her back and flanks. It was still hard to think that they were really about to do this. But it felt so right, her body a perfect fit against his.

They shared a lingering look before he dipped his head and slanted his mouth over hers again. He never wanted to stop kissing and touching her.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt the light press of her hand against the bulge at the front of his breeches and bit back a choked curse at the pleasure that suddenly radiated through his body. Ilvy instantly drew back from him, looking at him with wide worried eyes.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Maker’s breath, no, no you didn’t,” he breathed and wished she’d put her hand back on him. While giving her a lopsided grin, he thumbed the waistline of her breeches. Ilvy caught her bottom lip between her teeth and took hold of his hands, guiding them to the lacing.

Alistair glanced down while undoing the knots with trembling fingers, trying to not let his eyes drift to where the neckline of her breastbindings dipped, offering an inviting glimpse of her breasts.

“Careful,” he groaned when he felt her fingers at the lacing of his own breeches. She blushed so prettily while peering up at him through her lashes as she tugged the knots loose.

When Alistair began tugging down her breeches over her hips, Ilvy sat back to let him slide them down her legs. Unable to resist the temptation, he leaned forward to press a kiss to a knee while caressing the back of her leg. Ilvy muffled her giggles against her hand, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Your turn,” she whispered. He had to suppress a shudder when her hands slid over his skin, her palms warm and soothing as she helped him out of his breeches, putting them to the side.

In a fit of eager confidence, he moved forward, resting his weight on one hand as he reclaimed her mouth in a heated kiss. It wasn’t until he felt her slide her arms around his neck that he became aware of that they’d begun moving to lie down. Groaning, he settled his weight more comfortably on his elbow and knees, using his free hand to caress her hip and thigh.

Warmth flared through his body at the feeling of her bare legs against his, her fingers raking through his hair as she sighed between their firm kisses. His fingers brushed up her ribcage until he reached the hem of her breastband.

Swallowing hard, Alistair reluctantly pulled back to eye her breastband. The durable grey cloth was tightened at the front by lacing, but he could see more of it at the side, and wasn’t sure where to start pulling to get her out of it.

“Here,” Ilvy whispered and guided his hand to the side of her ribcage. Blushing, he grasped at the strings there and tugged the knot loose, the cloth instantly loosening around her form. It felt like he’d swallowed a mouthful of sand as he sat back up on his knees so he could help her pull it over her head, baring her full breasts to his eyes for the first time.

A hoarse groan fell from his lips as his eyes roamed over her where she lay before him, not sure where to touch and kiss her first. Her full lips, slender neck, plump breasts, her tummy – still wonderfully soft even after all their time on the road, the swell of her hips, her shapely legs… it all seemed equally tempting.

“Alistair?”

His eyes snapped back up to meet hers, his heart sinking at the worried, vulnerable look she gave him. “Maker preserve me, you’re…” He buried a hand in her blonde curls, cradling the back of her head as he pressed soft kisses to her lips, nose and jaw. “You’re perfect.” 

A nervous giggle escaped her when she returned her arms around his neck. The feeling of her breasts against his chest was divine and a needy moan wound its way up his throat when his straining erection pressed against her clothed sex as they settled back down.

“Andraste’s flaming knickers,” he croaked, unable to stop himself from rutting against her. Pleasure washed over him, sparking through his entire body to settle in his toes and rise up. Before he knew what was happening, the tension that had been building in his lower stomach snapped and his whole body was overcome with waves of intense pleasure. Groaning, he froze before he felt his arms give out underneath him.

Ilvy’s surprised yelp pierced through the fog in his mind and he quickly scrambled back up to roll to her side. Alistair blinked slowly as he became aware of what exactly just had happened. “Maker’s blazing balls,” he hissed between his teeth and he hid his face in his hands as the pleasant warmth in his body was quickly replaced by cold dread. He’d well and truly messed things up now.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as the flaming heat of a blush spread across his face. Beside him, he felt her move about. Probably getting up to get dressed again. “I’ll just go, you don’t-“

He was interrupted by a finger pressed against his lips. Confused, he pulled away his hands from his eyes to look up at Ilvy where she knelt over him with a smile on her lips.

“Alistair, relax.” She bent her head down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m not telling you to leave.”

“You’re not?” he blurted out. “But I-“

“It’s natural.”

He blinked up at her, studying her face for any traces of the disappointment or annoyance he was sure should be there. But he could only find gentle affection in her eyes, the amused smile on her lips not one born out of mockery or ridicule.

Ilvy caressed his cheek and pressed her lips to his in a firm kiss. Alistair hesitated for a moment before he responded to it, relieved to know that she wasn’t upset. Slowly she draped herself over him and his hands returned to her waist before sliding up her back. He sighed against her lips at the feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest, daring to slide his hands down over her rear before returning them to her waist.

This wasn’t so bad. Grunting, he carefully rolled them over and put his weight onto his elbows. Slowly, their kiss ebbed out and they parted to catch their breaths.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated earnestly.

She giggled softly and peppered light kisses over his mouth and chin. “It’s alright Alistair. I’ve overheard more than enough talk at the tower to know that it’s ah… not uncommon for men to get a bit too excited their first time.” They shared another chaste, languid kiss. “It’s no pressure.”

Despite her reassurances, he felt disappointment curl in his stomach. “But what about you?” he murmured.

“Me?”

“I don’t want this to be one-sided,” he murmured. “Unless you want to stop, I mean.”

Ilvy blushed and glanced away, her fingers nervously tugging at the edge of her sleeping blanket. “I-I talked with Leliana… for you know… advice…”

It didn’t surprise him that she had, especially considering how close the two of them had grown as friends since Lothering. Alistair leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, humming when she giggled that his scruff tickled. “Yes?”

“She uhm, suggested you could ah…” His eyebrows knit together in worry when she refused to look at him, her blush spreading from her cheeks all the way to the tip of her ears and down her neck.

“Do what? Juggle some books to show my dexterity? Shout my declarations of love from the top of a roof in Denerim? Dance over hot coal while dressed in Morrigan’s witch-rags?”

She snorted and swatted at his arm. “No!”

He pressed small kisses to her cheek and jaw, his curiosity piqued. “Then what, love?”

Slowly, Ilvy turned to nuzzle her nose against his while brushing her fingers against his collarbones, toying with the thick leather cord that kept his Joining amulet around his neck. “She said you might want to use your fingers or mouth on me.”

Alistair raised his eyebrows as the heat of a blush spread across his cheeks and neck.

“She said it’d help prepare me for, well, you, if you helped me orgasm first. But as it’s now… well, there’s no need to stop now if we don’t want to. I’ve heard that men need some time to recover…”

The way she put it made it sound so technical, as if she was instructing him on how to properly tend to a wound or mend his shirt. Swallowing, his hand stilled where he had been stroking her hip, contemplating her.

“Oh,” he murmured. Of course he’d heard about couples using their mouths to pleasure each other. Well, mostly he’d heard about women doing it to men, but the thought of doing it to her was… intriguing to say the least.

“I-it’s no pressure, of course.” Her hands cupped his jaw, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. “If you’re… well, ready again by then, then we can try again, otherwise…” She smiled and pulled him down for a brief, gentle kiss. “Otherwise we can just try again some other night. I’m happy whichever way.”

“I want to,” he murmured hotly and trailed a hand up her stomach. As much as he wanted to do the deed with her, he was equally eager to explore and become familiar with her body. What she said held truth, he knew that. And if they couldn’t tonight, well, at least he wouldn’t be entirely clueless the next time. He brushed his fingertips against the underside of one of her breasts. “Can I?”

She nodded, watching him with a nervous smile. Alistair covered her breast with his hand, groaning at how perfect it fit his palm. Swallowing, he looked up at her. “I’m afraid you’ll have to uh… talk me through this.”

“Of course, Just… ask if you wonder about something.” Ilvy bit her lip and covered his hand with her own. “Here, you can, uhm…” Her slender fingers pressed down on his, and he gave her breast a tentative squeeze, marveling at the feeling of the supple flesh now that it wasn’t constrained by her bindings. “Yes, like that,” she mumbled with a soft sigh. “You can touch my uhm, nipples…”

Her cheeks were flushed, but there was a breathy quality to her low voice that sent his blood pumping. He did as she instructed, taking her nipple between his fingers and giving it a careful pinch. “Harder,” she whispered and he obeyed. Her gasp startled him, and he looked up at her, worried he’d hurt her.

But Ilvy just smiled in reassurance and nodded. “It’s good, Alistair,” she sighed and he eagerly continued, transfixed by the little twitches in her expression, how her lips parted to draw deep breaths. On a whim he leaned down and pressed hot kisses to her other breast before he closed his mouth around the rosy peak of her neglected breast.

“Oh!” Ilvy gasped and pressed back up into his touch, one of her hands grasping at the back of his neck. “Alistair…” she moaned and he never thought his name would sound that good spoken out loud. He gave her nipple an experimental suck, drawing another low moan from her. Were they meant to tighten into firm buds? Was it a sign of that he was doing something right?

She squirmed under him, her nails scratching against his skin. “Maybe, uhm… Try using your teeth a little?”

Alistair glanced up at her in surprise, but when she just gave him a small helpless shrug he smiled. “As you wish,” he quipped and returned his mouth to her breast and did as she asked him to, carefully teasing her nipple with his teeth.

“Yes,” she whispered and he tried again, a little harder. He was rewarded with another moan, and felt his confidence mounting as he eagerly suckled at her, squeezing her other breast in his hand. Her hands grasped at his back, cradling him closer to her breast. “Oh Alistair…”

He could barely believe this was really happening as he kept up his ministrations, switching his mouth to her other breast. A pleasant warmth burned under his skin, and he was certain he could spend hours just exploring her body with his mouth, trailing kisses all over her soft skin, listening to what sounds he could draw out of her.

But when her hand wound its way into his hair and gave a small, insistent tug, he reluctantly tore himself away from her breast to look up at her again. “Something wrong?” he asked, taking in her flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Something in his stomach curled pleasantly at the heated look she was giving him as she shook her head.

“Maker, no,” she giggled and he couldn’t help but grin in response.

“So uhm,” he drawled while sliding his hand down her body, enjoying the way her muscles twitched under his touch. “What was that you said about using my mouth or hand on you?”

Ilvy’s hand touched his and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Maybe… maybe we should start with just your hand.”

Numbly, he nodded and helped her wiggle out of her smalls. He swallowed hard at the sight of her completely nude form, his eyes going to the darker patch of hair at the apex of her thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed once more. He’d repeat it for the rest of his life if it was up to him. His fingers trailed down her side in a light caress, marveling at the lack of fabric hindering him. “So… how do I do this?”

Ilvy licked her lips and took his hand in hers, guiding it between her thighs. He moaned at the sheer warmth that met his fingers even before he touched her, surprised to find her wet to the touch.

“Maker preserve me,” Alistair groaned against her cheek as she urged him to press a finger between her slick folds. So warm, so soft, like the finest velvet. It was dizzying to imagine being buried in it.

“That’s your doing,” she whispered and he jerked his head up to look at her.

“Mine?”

She nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “It’s ah-a sign of arousal in a woman.”

Well, now he understood the leering comments about his fellow Templar trainees getting some woman ‘all good and wet’ for them. Moaning, he leaned forward and kissed her hungrily. It was his doing.

His.

“Alistair…”

“Yes, sorry,” he chuckled. She giggled again and he swore he’d never heard a sweeter sound. “So…” He wiggled his eyebrows and watched her brilliant smile when she guided his hand.

“There’s an area called the clitoris here,” she murmured as she dragged his finger up her sex, until he felt a swollen bud against the pad of his finger. A small gasp spilled from her lips and he raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s where we feel pleasure,” she continued, her voice hoarser than before.

His head swam with the new information and sensations, but he forced himself to focus. “Okay, clitoris, pleasure, gotcha. Can I?” She nodded and let go of his hand. Fascinated, he watched her eyes flutter shut when he carefully stroked her there, a low moan winding up from her chest before it rose with a sharp intake of breath.

He looked down her body, enrapt with the sight of her spreading her legs wider, her hips bucking against his hand.

“Yes,” she moaned, “like that, good.” Her fingers twitched where they rested against her thigh, her other hand coming up to curl around his bicep. A musky scent caught his attention, and he groaned softly when he understood it was the scent of her arousal. It made the thought of tasting her rise up to the forefront of his mind once more, the idea of it even more tempting than before.

The gentle press of her fingers against his directed his hand down her sex until he felt his finger sink into her to his first knuckle.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he groaned and continued circling her clit with his fingers, stroking her sex and dipping his fingers into her. Without stopping what he was doing, he moved so he could trail kisses down her neck before he returned his lips to her breast, licking at her pebbled nipple before taking it in his mouth again.

Delightful, muffled moans fell from her lips as he touched her with more confidence, trying to commit to his memory what she seemed to like the most, what made her grip on him tighten as she desperately tried to keep quiet. Suddenly he wished they had a proper room so that they didn’t need to keep their voices down for fear of the others hearing, a proper bed, proper light, so he could hear and see her clearly. 

“Ah, Al… Alistair,” she moaned and he felt her hands grab at his shoulders, pulling at him. But he lingered, tugging at her nipple with his teeth, groaning at the breathy gasp it drew from her. She was squirming, writhing ever so deliciously beneath him when he ran his tongue over the rosy nub.

“Ilvy,” he sighed against her skin, and kissed his way back up her chest and neck.

She whimpered, her hips rolling against his hand and she dragged him back to her mouth for a hungry kiss while her fingers pressed against his neck.

Suddenly he felt her inner muscles pulse, and she panted against his lips.  
“I’m… close,” she gasped.

Alistair swallowed and watched her, taking in her flushed skin and the look in her eyes, so heavy with desire as she met his gaze.

A dragon wouldn’t have been able to tear him away from watching her face contort with pleasure as she reached her peak, whimpering his name in a way that made that familiar tug of arousal appear in his belly. He felt her body tense, squeezing his fingers as he continued moving them between her thighs, her thankfully blunt nails digging into his back.

Ilvy bit her lip, her eyes screwed shut as she slowly came down from her climax.

“Alistair,” she moaned and grasped at his hand, forcing him cease his ministrations. “It’s enough, love. ‘tis sensitive.”

“Oh,” he murmured with a sheepish grin and reluctantly withdrew his hand from her heat. A thought possessed him, and he raised his hand to his mouth, breathing in the heady scent of her before he curiously licked one of his fingers. A moan immediately crawled up his throat at the taste of her. Maker, he wanted to see her come undone under his mouth.

“Ilvy,” he growled, barely recognizing his own hoarse voice, before he reclaimed her mouth. She moaned softly against his lips, and he moved his hand back up to her breast, groaning in delight as he squeezed and kneaded her.

Slowly, he feel himself grow hard again, every brush against her thigh sending jolts of pleasure through his body. But along with it a deep worry clawed up inside of him.

Maker’s flaming breath, he felt like a huge brute when he loomed over her. What if she laughed at him? Or worse, he made her cry? What if he was a disappointment? What if he hurt her?

“Alistair, are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m very much alright, yes,” he quickly answered. “Completely fine, how could I not be, with such a beautiful woman beside me?”

Ilvy raised an eyebrow at him, obviously not fully believing him. Groaning he leaned forward to hide his face against her shoulder. “What if I do something wrong?” He caressed her hip, his thumb dipping into the crease of her thigh. “Or am terrible at this?” Maybe he should’ve asked Leliana or Zevran for advice as well.

“Alistair, love, there’s always a learning curve,” she murmured softly while running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You can’t tell me you knew how to handle a sword the first time you picked one up.”

He raised his head to look at her, a smile twitching at his lips even as he adapted a scandalized expression. “My dear lady, was that an innuendo?”

Ilvy blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes before her cheeks darkened when she realized the double-meaning of her words. Chuckling, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re adorable when you blush,” he whispered.

Before he could pull back too far, her hands cupped his jaw and pulled his head back down to kiss him. Alistair grunted, grinning against her lips and slid his hand down to cradle her hip and pull her closer, reveling in the feeling of her bare legs against his own. Except his erection was suddenly pressed flush against her hip, and he choked back a shaky moan as he reared back. “Andraste’s flaming knickers,” he croaked.

Ilvy blinked up at him, but then giggled softly when she understood what had happened. “Here, lie down Alistair.”

She sat up, and his gaze lingered on her breasts, his mind suddenly going blank at the prospect of burying his face in her soft mounds again. But when she poked him on the arm, he startled into action and took her place on the bedroll.

Ilvy gave him a shy glance before leaning down to press kisses down his shoulder and chest, her fingertips skimming down his sides until she reached his smalls. He hesitated a moment before raising a hand to tangle his fingers in her blonde locks, glancing down to watch her kiss her way down his body. If he hadn’t seen the lack of energy sparking around her hands, he would have thought that she had summoned electricity to her fingertips, because her touch made his skin feel all tingly.

When she pulled back just below his waist he grunted in disappointment, but then she was sitting up and giving his smalls a light tug. Alistair raised his hips and bit the inside of his cheek to not moan when she pulled them down his legs, freeing his aching erection. Instead of looking at her though, he stared up at the canvas of the tent, desperately thinking about everything from the Archdemon to Loghain in a dress to the wrinkly old Chantry sister who always had scolded him when he got a part of the Chant wrong.

“Alistair…” The light touch of her hand to his thigh made him groan and return his gaze to her. The glorious sight of her kneeling over him, completely nude, coupled with the heated look in her eyes as she trailed her fingers up his leg made his insides go warm and his cock twitch. All of sudden he wondered if it was possible to pass out due to too much blood rushing to one’s prick.

Her fingers followed the dip of his hipbone, down towards his aching member, her touch light and teasing. She hesitated for a moment before she took him in her hand, and Alistair gritted his teeth together to not moan loud enough to wake the whole camp. “Ilvy!”

“This alright?” She murmured just as she stroked him up towards the tip.

“Maker, yes!” he hissed as his eyes rolled back and he screwed his eyes shut. But after a couple of seconds he had to scramble to catch her wicked hand. “But you’ll end me if you keep doing that.”

“Oh, right,” she murmured and smiled innocently. He just managed to bite back a whimper when she let go of him and instead moved so she was straddling his thighs. 

Quickly, he sat up and settled his hands on her hips. Maker’s breath, he could feel the heat of her.

“So uhm, Leliana suggested it’d maybe be easier this way,” Ilvy whispered while running her hands over his chest. “That way I can you know, control the pace. You’re ah, pretty large…”

Despite his masculine pride swelling at her words, even knowing that she didn’t have anyone to draw any comparisons to, Alistair felt his stomach clench with worry and raised a hand to caress her cheek. “Ilvy, we don’t have to if you’re worried. I don’t want to hurt you or-”

But she just flashed him a sweet smile and leaned forward to silence him with a lingering kiss. “But I want to do this with you,” she whispered against his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist when she shuffled closer to him, relishing in her warm body against his. She pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hands resting on his chest.

“In the tower… there’s room for sex... But there, love is something you have to hide; a vulnerability.”

He felt one of her hands leave his chest to slide down between them until her fingers closed around him once more. Groaning, he squeezed her hips and met her eyes. “Take your time,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She smiled at him, and then they were both moaning when she guided the tip of him to her sex. He gritted his teeth as he felt himself being slowly enveloped by her wet heat, struggling not to curse loudly. Instead, he buried his nose in the crook of her neck, whispering sweet nothings against her skin.

A sudden wince from her made him look up though, worry piercing through the dizzying haze of pleasure. “Ilvy?” he asked softly.

She gave him a small smile and shook her head. “It’s alright, just… give me a moment.”

He nodded and stroked his hands up and down her flanks, feeling the muscles in her legs tremble under his hands. After a few seconds she drew a deep breath and moaned softly as she slowly took in the rest of him in, slipping her arms around him as she hid her face against his shoulder. “Maker…”

“Ilvy,” he moaned, desperately clinging to his control to not lose himself to the feeling of her velvet heat enveloping him. It was incredible to feel her wrap herself around him, her breath hot against his skin. He wanted to move, craved that wonderful friction, wished to see and feel her come undone like when he’d stroked her with his hand.

His mind momentarily went blank when she gave a careful, experimental roll with her hips. He pressed hot kisses to her neck, murmuring her name when she tilted her head to give him better access.

“Alistair,” she whispered and cupped his jaw. Their lips brushed in a light kiss and his breath was momentarily stolen by her flushed look and dark eyes.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded and smiled as she rolled her hips once more, a quiet moan spilling from her lips. Slowly, she found her bearings and started moving with more purpose, grinding their hips together while muffling her soft moans and whimpers against his lips. Alistair felt like his skin was too hot, too tight, while he desperately tried to mentally recite the Chant to distract himself.

“Touch me.”

It took a couple of seconds for him to process her hoarse whisper, but then he quickly moved a hand to where their bodies were joined, thankfully finding the bundle of nerves with ease.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he hissed while kissing her neck and shoulder, fingers gripping her hip tightly. The urge to roll her over and take control was overwhelming, but instead he pulled back enough to look at her.

He swallowed hard at the sight of her with pleasure written all over her face, inviting lips parted as she panted for breath. With a needy whine he pressed kisses to her chin and neck, all his senses occupied by the feeling of her, her musky scent, the taste of the salt on her skin.

“You feel so amazing,” he whispered.

“Oh Maker, Alistair,” she moaned while wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her nails dug into his back, and he could feel her motions become jerkier. Smiling, he nipped at her shoulder, sucking at her skin with the intent to mark her.

Ilvy pressed her face against his neck, her desperately muffled whimpers and moans fanning her hot breath over his skin.

“Ilvy, love,” he groaned in warning as an intense, tingling sensation spread through his body. Giving in to the urge, he grabbed her and rolled them over. Ilvy gasped in surprise, his name spilling from her lips in a hushed moan when he quickly found his bearings and thrust into her. Alistair bit the inside of his cheek to not come undone at the sight of her spread out under him, her eyes, glazed over with pleasure, fixed on him. It was better than anything he could have imagined.

Desperate to see her satisfied first, he braced himself on an arm and returned his free hand to her clit.

“Ah-Alistair-“

Hang the Blight, bringing her to these heights of pleasure was his new goal in life. 

It took him entirely by surprise when she suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her noises, her eyes fluttering shut as her body grew taut beneath him.

“Maker-!”

His mind barely had time to register the wonderful sensation of her clenching around his cock until he felt something inside him snap and he was overcome with a rush of white hot pleasure. It was unlike anything he’d experienced when taking himself in hand; like fire rushing through his veins, setting his every nerve alight. He pressed his nose against the crook of her neck, muffling his cry against her skin while white spots danced in front of his eyes.

When he came to, he felt her fingers slide through his hair while her chest rose and fell beneath him. Groaning, he pressed a few soft, reverent kisses to her neck before pulling back to look at her. “I love you,” he whispered.

A content smile spread on Ilvy’s lips before she pulled him down for a slow, tender kiss. “I love you too, Alistair,” she murmured in-between.

He moved enough to slip his soft length out of her, unable to repress a proud grin at her quiet whine at the loss, before falling to her side. With languid movements, they soon laid together on their sides with a thick wool blanket pulled over them, just soaking up the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

“That was wonderful.”

Alistair chuckled and brushed back a few blonde strands behind her ear. “Yes it was.”

They fell silent once more, nuzzling their noses against each other’s and trading small kisses, both unwilling to let the moment come to an end. It was so easy to forget about the world outside, to just bask in the afterglow and her warm, soft body nestled against his.

It wasn’t until they heard something shuffle about right outside the tent that they parted to look towards the opening. Alistair was half-prepared to face the amused jeering of one of their companions, but to his relief, all he could see was the familiar shadow silhouette of Garmr, who flopped down onto the ground in front of the tent with a quiet woof.

“Mm, looks like you’re stuck here unless you want to crawl over him.”

Alistair’s heart leapt up in his throat as he turned to look at her. She glanced up at him with a shy, hopeful look in her eyes. It was a flimsy excuse as far as excuses went, but he wasn’t about to point that out. Grinning, he reclaimed her lips in a firm kiss. “Indeed, seems I have no choice but to remain here then with a beautiful woman in my arms. Such a horror.”

Ilvy giggled and wrapped her arms around him, her fingers stroking his back as he leaned over her. “The sacrifices you do.”

Humming he caressed her side under the blanket. “You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck down by lightning by now.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Truly?”

“Yup. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it. I’m a bad, bad man.”

Ilvy’s amused smile sent his heart soaring. Maker, he loved seeing her smile and laugh. Ever since one of his jokes had rewarded him with that first hesitant giggle back in Ostagar he’d done his best to continue making her happy. She’d been so shy and quiet, jumping at every too loud noise in the army-camp.

“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t be far behind you as far as divine retribution goes.” Her smile turned wry. “Or so the Mother at the Circle told us, what with risking bringing yet another mage into this world.” Instantly she grimaced. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to sound so grim. The Taint would prevent it anyway, not that I don’t think you’d make a good father, if you’d ever want to start one I mean, I-I wouldn’t expect it, you to-”

With a low chuckle at her nervous habit of rambling, Alistair hugged her closer as he scattered kisses all over her face until she was giggling and wiggling in his arms while trying to hide from his onslaught.

Taking pity on her, he laughed and nipped at her earlobe. “You know the other members of our little group will talk, right? That’s what they do.”

Ilvy turned to peer up at him with a loving smile. “Let them. There’s no one we need to hide from here.”

Grinning, he buried his nose in her hair. He hadn’t thought he’d ever feel happier than he did that day when Duncan took him away from the Templar monastery, but being with her, even in the midst of a Blight, certainly came close. “I’m a lucky, lucky man,” he whispered and held her close once they settled down to sleep. Yes, he was lucky that she was here, free from the Chantry’s grasp, just like himself. Free for him to love and make happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the read, I apologize for any mistakes as english isn't my first language. Feel free to point them out, or otherwise give feedback if you wish to!


End file.
